The word, "pie" has seven syllables of embellishment goodness.

Last week, I waxed poetic about Laurel liking me.  While she still likes me, I think she edging closer to the stage by being embarrassed by me. It's there..lurking..ready to get bigger.  Laurel (and Rachel) need to know that their mom is weird..perhaps a touch of crazy.

This issue came up last night.  When I heard about the passing of Sherman Helmsley, I immediately went into song. I started singing the theme song of the Jeffersons...you know it:
"To a deluxe apartment in the sky. Movin' on up,  To the east side. We finally got a piece of the pie".  (I just don't sing the words.  There is a lot of musical embellishment on my part.  The word, "pie" has seven syllables of embellishment goodness.)

Laurel looked at me like I was a freak.  She didn't roll her eyes but there was this primal fear that I was not normal or something?

Really Laurel?  Just a few days ago, we were singing the (probably) one hit wonder of The Wanted.  While we can yell/sing about Chasing the Sun, we can't appreciate the incredible gospel styling of one of the best theme songs of my generation?  Well, Laurel...let's call it now.  Get used to it.  I am a little weird:
1.  I have a little "Yay!" habit.  If something excites me, I tend to react with a delayed moment and then yell a high pitch "Yay!" complete with jazz hands.
2.  I talk to myself because I am constantly trying to remind myself of what I was about to do.  It looks weird...get used to it.  Not only can you see my lips move, there are hand gestures too.
3.  At the end of any good workout, I give myself a fist pump like I just kicked the winning goal.  I don't care if anyone sees me.

I don't think Laurel should waste energy now being embarrassed.  She should save it when she brings home a boy...just sayin'.